


the danger is i’m dangerous and i might just tear you apart

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cassian is not subtle guys, Competency!kink, F/M, Fighting Kink, Fighting as Flirtation, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-30 18:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10169510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: Here is a slightly uncomfortable fact that Cassian would rather not have become public knowledge:He has such athingfor watching Jyn fight.He's also fairly helpless when it comes to surprise kisses.





	1. this is a bad town for such a pretty face

_this is a bad town_

_for such a pretty face_

* * *

 

Here is a slightly uncomfortable fact that Cassian would rather not have become public knowledge:

He has such a _thing_ for watching Jyn fight.

She isn’t like Chirrut, all smooth flowing grace, taking out opponents as easily as breathing and just as effortless. Jyn is _ruthless_ , using her small size and lower center of gravity to devastating advantage, bringing down her truncheons with enough force to break bones or noses. It doesn’t matter how big her opponent might be, Jyn can and will take them down. She’s an excellent shot too; he’s seen her on the firing range enough times to know the ones with the holes clustered neatly in the center are her work.

He’s watching her teach Bodhi some basic hand-to-hand; what he lacks in skill he makes up for in…dubious enthusiasm. And mostly dodging.

Jyn, despite all evidence to the contrary, is a good teacher. She understands Bodhi’s reluctance but gently and firmly pushes him past it. Right now they’re just working on the basic punching movement; Bodhi keeps flinching every time Jyn swings at him or pulls his punches at the last second at Jyn.  

“This,” she announces after the third time, “is not working.”

“Does this mean we’re stopping?” Bodhi asks in the forlorn hope that Jyn might quit. He knows better. She huffs.

“Honestly,” she scolds him, “What happens when we get shot down on a mission and you don’t have a blaster to defend yourself with?”

“That might _not_ happen?” Bodhi suggest without much hope.

Jyn disregards it as the nonsense it is. “What we need,” she says, hands on her hips, lips pursed, “is a practical demonstration.”

It’s been a very long time since Cassian has to had to physically fight his way out of a situation. He can do it, but it means he’s not doing his job right if he as to draw attention to himself. But the pull of it is in his muscles and it’s been a long time since he’s exerted himself that way. He shouldn’t let himself get rusty.

“I’ll have a go,” he offers casually and both Jyn and Bodhi turn to look at him.

“Oh?” Jyn asks coolly just as Bodhi says dubiously, “ _You_ will?”

It’s only mildly insulting.

“I _do_ know basic hand-to-hand,” Cassian points out with only some asperity as Bodhi flushes slightly and the corners of Jyn’s mouth twitch. “And a real life demonstration might help.”

Bodhi and Jyn exchange glances. Jyn reacts first, shrugging nonchalantly. “Sure, why not,” she says casually, “just let me redo my wrappings.”

“Better you than me, mate,” Bodhi mutters to Cassian as he escapes gratefully off the mat. Cassian takes off his jacket, his outer shirt, lays them neatly off to the side. Bodhi’s nice enough to bring him some cloth wrappings, which he does around his knuckles and wrists. he shakes himself loose, kicks off his boots. It really has been too long.

Jyn watches him with that cool, calculating stare, arms loose at her sides. “Ready?” she asks and this is all the warning he gets. He barely has time to nod before she’s swinging.

Dodging her isn’t the problem. The problem is staying on his toes. Jyn gets in close, fights _mean_. It’s barroom brawling and ruthless partisan efficiency. He’s trying to be _professional_ about this, but Jyn is not having it.

They get an audience when she jabs his ribs; there’s the sound of muffled oohs when he winds one foot around her ankle and yanks. She loses her footing for all ten seconds and then she dodges and it’s something else now; it’s heat and speed and something like a dance, if he danced, if they were the sort of people who danced. This is as close as they get. She barrels into him, taking them both down on the mat and she’s small and strong and fiercely warm, and well, Cassian can’t be _entirely_ blamed for losing his concentration. Not entirely.

But he will not lose. He won’t. They grapple like two beasts, Jyn’s teeth bared in something that looks like it might be a grin or a snarl–hair in her face, gleaming with sweat. Something goes hot and hungry in Cassian’s belly; he wonders what it would be like to have all the fire under him, keeping away the chill of Hoth.

It ends like this: he’s down, pinned on his back by Jyn, her knees on either side of his hips, digging in with truly admirable tenacity. She’s got him well and truly pinned and she looks so damn _smug_ and _satisfied_  and  _pleased_ with herself he sort of wants to kiss that self-satisfied look off her face. There’s a lot of laughter and suggestive catcalling from their audience, but for once, Cassian doesn’t care about the loss of his dignity. Jyn is warm and heavier than he might’ve supposed on top of him, and he’s going to hoard this memory like it’s gold, like it’s something sweet and heavy on his tongue.

“Was any of that supposed to be instructive?” Bodhi asks, sounding torn somewhere between concern or amusement. “Because I don’t feel very instructed right now.”

Jyn raises her head to look at him and the long line of her throat bared for his view makes Cassian’s gut clench. “If you weren’t learning, you weren’t paying attention,” she informs Bodhi tartly and Cassian, because he’s a grasping bastard, take advantage of her momentary distraction. He surges up under her, rolls them both over and pins _her_ to the mat, her yelp of surprise lost to the yelling and whoops. She looks up at him in surprise, eyes wide and they narrow fiercely.

“You _bastard,_ ” she says, somehow managing to sound both impressed and annoyed. “I’m going to get you for that.”

He grins now, all teeth and intent, and her gaze goes hot. “You’re welcome to _try,_ ” he says and oh, he is in _such trouble_ now, isn’t he? He is in truly in _worlds_ of trouble, and he can’t find it within himself to care.

He lets Jyn up and she leaps lithely to her feet, directs a mocking bow to their audience and then, in true Jyn fashion, an obscene gesture. They laugh and cheer and boo and Jyn ignores them, snatching up a towel and dabbing her forehead with it, shaking back sweat-damp bangs from her face. Cassian accepts a bottle of water from Bodhi and takes a long pull, watching Jyn.

“Not too bad,” she says with casual carelessness, “I mean, for a spy.”

“Your technique needs some work,” he retorts, “for a partisan.”

She grins again, a flash of teeth and exuberance and _oh,_ Cassian thinks, _oh hell._

* * *

In his bunk, late at night, he remembers what it felt like, warm, taut strength in his arms, a long graceful neck bared above him, and he might not get much _sleep_ , but the _dreams_ are more than worth it.


	2. i wanna be the sand inside that hourglass, take it slow, i want to make it last

_jenny’s got a body just like an hourglass_  
but I’m taking my time, I’m taking my time  
I wanna be the sand inside that hourglass, take it slow, I want to make it last 

* * *

They are _supposed_ to be undercover. They are _supposed_ to be keeping an eye out for a corrupt Imperial officer who they might steal some data from. 

Getting pinned against a wall and getting the kriffing daylights kissed out of him didn’t exactly fall under that plan.

But alright. Cassian can multitask. 

It’s been nearly three months since Scarif, since he and Jyn decided to try…whatever this _thing_ between them is. And by trying it, it means they’ve been sharing the same bunk whenever they’re both planetside at the same time, sharing missions whenever they can, or simply existing in the other’s space without, you know, any death-defying suicide missions hanging between them.

The Rebellion seems to be starved for entertainment, or otherwise watching the Princess and the smuggler Solo yell at each other from across the base is starting to lose it’s appeal (Cassian knows of at least _three_ different betting pools in which who is going to break first, Leia or Solo; his money is on Solo) because a truly ridiculous amount of people are… _worryingly_ interested in watching him and Jyn interact. They are offering _suggestions,_ for Force’s sake, _don’t you people have anything better do?_ He’d asked Kes Dameron why everyone was so kriffing _invested_ and the pilot had given him a rather pitying look. “Because if there’s anyone who deserves some consolation in this sad and sorry universe it’s the two of you.”

Cassian hadn’t liked that–as if Jyn were a consolation prize when she was more like _solace, redemption, peace_ –but maybe he could sort of see Kes’s point. 

(He is still going to shoot the next pilot who tries to shove them in a small space together.)

They’re careful, him and Jyn. Not demonstrative in public, or in front of their team. Definitely not on missions. 

So her grabbing him and kissing him is rather–wildly out of character. Well, they _are_ undercover, but still! Jyn doesn’t go around grabbing people and randomly _kissing_ them. Honestly, he’s not so sure how he’d feel about that, he’s awful at sharing and he covets every one of Jyn’s kisses, hoards it like a dragon guarding gold, but Force knows he’s had to do his share of honeypot missions in the past–

“You aren’t paying attention,” Jyn mutters into his neck, under the pretense of kissing his pulse there; he swallows. “I can hear your brain going a million light years a second.”

“Old habits,” he manages to get out, sliding his hands up her back, trying to keep one eye on everything over Jyn’s head. 

She snorts softly, a puff of air against his neck; goosebumps break out over his skin. “I guess I have to be trying harder then,” she murmurs, a curl of her lips evident in her voice. 

 _No, you really don’t have to_ , is what Cassian _tries_ to say, because this is _Jyn_ they’re talking about and all she has to do is enter the room and he is immediately, _intimately_ aware of her. But this _is_ Jyn and he’s never known her to back down from anything, so her mouth is back on his. 

Cassian has kissed people before, for the sake of something–the mission, the Rebellion, the cause. Not for his own sake or his own wish, but always in the pursuit something else, a bigger goal in mind. But kissing Jyn is sort of like drowning, he’d imagine, a really delightful sensation once he ceases to struggle. She’s at once rough and playful, nipping at his lower lip, smiling into his mouth, hands wandering up his back and into his hair, her hips rocking into his. “ _Cariño_ ,” she purrs into his ear, an endearment he’s used with her in moments of privacy, “ _corazón_ ,” a soft laugh in his ear at the undignified noise he makes in response, a strangled gasp of protest, this is _fighting dirty._

“ _No es justo,_ ” he manages to get out in response and she snickers against his throat. 

The light in this half-empty bar is bad and the patrons are much more interested in their drinks than watching two beings embracing in a half-hidden nook, but some part of Cassian’s brain is wondering wildly just far Jyn is planning to take this, just how far can they push it, and what would happen if he hooked his hands under Jyn’s thighs and pulled her upwards, spun them around, put her back to the wall and if he were to kneel–

Jyn bites the tendons of his neck, jarring him out of this intriguing notion; he’s going to have to revisit that at a later date. “Gone yet?” she breathes out and he manages this time to think with the head on his shoulders. 

“All clear,” he breathes and in retaliation for all the trouble she’s put him through, kisses the soft spot behind her ear that causes her shiver and gasp, a soft surprised sound that never fails to make him want to hear more of it. 

She pulls back from him a little, and he resents even this small amount of space between them. Her face is flushed and her eyes dark and dazzling and her mouth is an invitation. He resolves to take advantage in the relative comfort of their own bunk.


End file.
